


I wanna talk to you (with you)

by fujoshism (fancypineapple)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-14 23:34:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10546242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fancypineapple/pseuds/fujoshism
Summary: [Originally posted on October 23, 2013]Lu Han rents a phone when he travels to Korea. Minseok keeps calling a friend's number and leaving voicemails. The voicemails end up on Lu Han's phone somehow and Lu Han falls a little for the voice on the other end.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this was a fill for [this](http://exopromptmeme.livejournal.com/8703.html?thread=3949311#t3949311) anon prompt. good old times... also, thought it'd be a nice tidbit to mention, the title for this was taken from NEWS' "Push On!".

Lu Han hasn't had time to tell anyone his number when it happens. It's literally the same day he receives the rented cellphone, a sleek Samsung model that gleams under Seoul's city lights and whistles to signalize an incoming message. Lu Han jumps, almost burning himself with his instant noodles. Are Korean telemarketing agents telepaths!?, he briefly wonders while staring at the phone. He barely just arrived, hasn’t even started having classes yet, and they’re already calling…?

But then again, it could be the rental agency. Maybe they were wishing him a good night and reminding him to pay the fee next Friday. Carefully turning the stove off, he walks towards the phone – not two steps before he reaches it in the “living room” – and checks what it is.

Voice mail.

Lu Han frowns. Voice mail…?

No one leaves voice mails. No one he knows, at least. Certainly no one he knows in Korea, which is the rental agency people and no one else. Telemarketing agents definitely don’t leave voice mails. Lu Han checks the number, and feels stupid for doing so, because it’s obviously an unknown number – he just got his hands on the fucking phone. There’s nothing in it.

Just for the hell of it, he decides to listen to the mail. He fumbles around a little, not knowing what key to press, but all is fine after some seconds and the mail starts to play with a beep.

 _Yah_ , a voice says. Muffled and a bit robotic; the phone’s speakers aren’t great. _Yaaaah. Where are you? I thought we were going to watch a movie today, but your phone was off the whole time! Are you dead? Call me back!_

Beep. The end.

Well, whoever it’s from, it’s certainly not for Lu Han ( _you don’t say_ , his brain taunts itself). Moreover, the voice sounded too young to be the rental company’s director’s voice, and too masculine to be his sales agent, both being the only people Lu Han had talked to that day. Maybe it was some other member from the staff. Or maybe it was just someone calling the wrong number.

Lu Han replays it, paying more attention this time. The person’s voice is not deep, but, to Lu Han, it sounds definitely masculine. What could it be? Maybe it was the pronunciation. The way he says ‘yah’ is a bit boyish, even though the slight raise of his voice at ‘are you dead?’ is a bit cute.

Perhaps Lu Han should’ve taken it as a sign of impending doom when he ended up replaying the message over ten times for unclear reasons. He failed to see anything weird in his own attitude, though. It was just curiosity. Just that, and anything else.

 

 

The next morning – a Saturday, maybe he should go out and buy some actual groceries – Lu Han wakes up to ten missed calls and two text messages in his rented, supposedly virginal phone. All from the same number. The number that had sent the voice message the night before.

 _why the fuck don’t u pick up (ㅎ皿ㅎ╬) u gonna miss practice_ , says one message, received at eight AM.

 _I’m seriously worried about you. If you’re avoiding me for some reason, at least call Chanyeol and tell him you’re not dead. Or, you know. Talk to me_ , says the second one, received at nine-thirty, and Lu Han’s heart hurts a little when he finally manages to decode the message (his Korean is not yet stellar). Poor Whoever-It-Is. Maybe Lu Han should send him a message, tell him that he’s not his friend and that he sincerely hopes his friend isn’t dead neither avoiding him, and he’s seriously about to do it when the phone whistles loudly and Lu Han drops it in the startle.

New voice mail.

…

Does Lu Han want to know?

…

… he does. Beep.

There’s a weird sound at the beginning. For the slightest second, it sounds like sobs, and Lu Han’s blood goes a bit cold. _You brat!!_ the guy’s voice is shaky. _You made me worry so much! I hate you, I hate you!_ But now that Lu Han is listening more carefully… it actually sounds like he’s laughing. Embarrassed, relieved laughter. _Ah, really, do you think this is funny?_ What follows is a stream of instructions Lu Han can’t understand – something about fixing and emergencies, and dried plums too? It’s hard to tell – recited in a jovial tone and full of reflexive ‘um’s and ‘ah’s. Then, there’s a pause. _Anyway, see you tomorrow, okay? Don’t ever make Minseokie hyung this worried again!_

Beep.

Lu Han is suddenly hyperaware that, for some reason, he’s smiling to himself.

 

It’s Monday morning, and Lu Han has to get dressed for his first day of classes at Yonsei, but he’s eating rice crackers and re-listening to the two voice messages he has received. He tells himself that he’s studying Korean; after all, this is not all that different from the audiobooks he used to study from in China. Except that this guy isn’t talking about the weather or taking the train, and his voice is much more attractive. _Much_ more.

 _Fix your phone soon. What if I have to contact you urgently? If we have extra dance practice, too, I can’t have Chanyeol call you all the time_. Lu Han has finally decoded the part about fixing and emergencies, after exhaustively replaying it, again and again and again.

And, right after it, comes his favorite part: _see you tomorrow, okay?_ Airy and bright, like a ray of sunshine during summer. _Don’t ever make Minseokie hyung this worried again!_ Beep.

Lu Han will be damned if he admits it to himself. He’ll be damned. He’ll be damned, but…

He might be running late, but he replays it once more. Beep.

Laughter. _You brat!_ …

 

 

Lu Han forgets to put his phone in silent mode during classes, which unsurprisingly fails to cause him trouble, since he has no friends to text him randomly during classes.

That’s it, until the familiar whistle goes off on Thursday, right as the whole class is silently taking notes. It doesn’t help that he scrambles for the phone like an idiot, dropping all his pens and notebook in the process. A ripple of laughter runs through the class, and Lu Han is lucky that this teacher in particular feels sorry for his exchange student self and doesn’t scold him. With his face burning, Lu Han quickly checks what it might be, intending to seize the chance to find out how to turn off the sound in that bloody sophisticated smartphone.

Voice mail.

Lu Han gasps a little.

Quickly and desperately, he turns the sound off, as if afraid he won’t resist the temptation and start listening to the message right there. Then, he just stares at the phone dumbly, slightly aware that his cheap ballpoint pens are still scattered around him, wondering what to do.

What to do? What to do?!

Lu Han proves the heavens that he unfortunately doesn’t have an ounce of common sense in him and starts typing a text message in response. Clearing up the whole thing? Confessing not to be the friend this man has been sending messages to? No; posing as the supposed friend.

 _minseokihyung?_ , he types clumsily, aware that the girl sitting at his left is contemplating whether to pick his things up for him or not. _I can’t talk rite now. I’m in cless._

He sends it before any streak of shame can kick in, and quickly gathers his belonging from the floor, not giving the girl a chance of helping. He feels like he just shoplifted from Tiffany's. The man will definitely see through his act and stop sending him voice mails, and he’ll be left miserably replaying the two previous messages for about a month before moving on. Lu Han is all extreme reactions, to everything. He’s doomed.

His cellphone vibrates. He jumps.

 _whats with your spelling? you must be really busyㅋㅋㅋ_ , says the message. _i’ll call you later then. when will you be home?_

It’s practically impossible for Lu Han to immediately decode all that abbreviation, specially when his heart is beating so fast and with the teacher suddenly resuming the lecture, so he ignores it all and texts back:

_Send one audio mail later._

He’s pretty sure this is somehow a criminal act but he doesn’t care.

 

 

At the front door of his rented apartment, Lu Han fishes his phone out before his keys.

Four voice mails. His heart sings like a canary.

As he clumsily opens his front door and tries not to drop his dinner on the floor, he rewinds to the very first voice mail he received, the one that made him drop everything at class. Almost tripping on his own shoes, he tumbles inside the apartment, pulling the pack of red beans dumplings before pressing play. Beep.

 _Seeeehuuuuunieeeeee~_ , the man makes the name last almost a minute. _I’m soooo so so! So bored right now. Do you wanna hang out? Call Chanyeol too, and I’ll talk to Tao, maybe we can watch a movie at his place. Pleeease!! Pretty please!_ A long string of whispered ‘please’s. _Okay, I’m done. Buy food! Bye bye!_

Beep. Lu Han sighs. He isn’t really aware that “Sehunie” is someone’s name just yet, but he has become familiar with that Chanyeol name, and it makes him feel oddly lonely. He’s suddenly aware that he’s living by himself in a foreign country, no friends, barely any contact with other forms of life except that one that keeps mistakenly sending him messages spoken in that lovely, lovely voice.

He replays it for good measure. Beep. It’s so cute. That message is so cute that it kills Lu Han bit by bit, softly, and maybe reshapes him into a bouquet of pink daphne flowers. Or a banana pudding. _Buy food! Bye bye!_. Beep. So cute. Absurdly so.

It’s time to move on, at least for now. The next one was received just as the last lecture for the day was ending, and it had sent a bout of giddiness up Lu Han’s spine, populating Lu Han’s stomach with all sorts of bouncing creatures. Lu Han trembles as he stuffs his mouth with dumplings before pressing play. Beep.

 _Oh Sehun! Yah! Are you finished?_ There’s a hint of whining to his voice that is just too adorable. _You forgot to tell me when you’d get home! It’s almost six PM, if you take any longer Tao will fall asleep! Did you fall asleep as well? Answer me! Don’t leave your hyung hanging!_ Beep.

Lu Han takes a deep breath and slowly convinces himself not to replay the message and, instead, just move onto the next one. He’ll have plenty of time to replay them later. Next one, received on his way to the convenience store. Beep.

 _Yah, Sehun, you’re not avoiding me, are you? Seriously, call back!_ Traces of outrage. _If you don’t I’ll wait for you at your front door! Or maybe I’ll even break into your house! CALL ME!_ The scream is so loud it makes the rented phone’s speakers hiss a little. Beep.

Lu Han pouts at how short that one is. Next one, then… beep.

Silence. _Um… hello_ , and Lu Han knows instantly that there’s something wrong, because his voice sounds completely different; quiet, hesitant. _So… I’m guessing you’re not Sehun_ , awkward laughter. Lu Han freezes, a lump of chewed dumpling clogging his throat. Shit. Shit, shit, holy shit. _But I you sent me messages today, right? Do I know you? Um, I’m sorry for sending so many mails. My friend Sehun didn’t tell me he had changed his number, and this used to be his number… um, ah, well. Anyway, sorry for sending voice mails. Bye._

Beep.

…

Lu Han swallows hard, and the food falls like two tons worth of stone and unaltered guilt. He has just gotten caught shoplifting from Tiffany's.

What to do?

He can let it be. He can forget about this. Delete the voice mails. Let the man on the other side of the line forget about it as well. Or… or he can call. Apologize. Now that Lu Han is thinking about it, he wonders how he got found out. He also wonders if the man finds him gross. Or creepy. In a wave of self-loathing, Lu Han realizes he could’ve been both. It’s terrible.

But, no matter what, Lu Han doesn’t want it to end like this. He doesn’t want to forget. He really doesn’t want to delete the voice mails, and eventually not even remember what the man’s bright voice sounded like. He’ll endure being called gross, but he should at least come clean and apologize. Even if he has to forget, eventually – right now, he definitely doesn’t want to let go.

So he sits up. Clears his throat. Sprints up to get a glass of water. Sits back down. Breathes in and out. And finally, with little difficulty (he’s getting better at using that phone really fast), he dials The Number. That number.

The first dial tune almost sends him chickening out, but he resists firmly. His palms sweat. Second tune. Third tune. He’s really scared.

“Hello?”

He might die. He’ll die. No, he’s already dying. Deep breath. “Huh,” the Korean grammar feels like dry pastry on his tongue. “Hello. Um.”

A frightening long pause. Terrible. Then, a gasp of realization. “Oh!” It’s exactly the same voice. Boyish, high pitched, jovial. Adorable. So adorable. “You’re the guy who’s with Sehun’s old number!”

“Um, yes. M-my name is Lu Han,” Lu Han’s voice sounds surprisingly neutral.

“Ah, I see. Sorry for all the hassle,” his laughter is like music. “I’m Minseok, by the way.”

“Oh,” _Minseokie hyung_. Lu Han’s heart hurts. “Um.”

“Um… so… you were texting me today, right?” Minseok is polite when he asks this, but it still makes Lu Han’s hands shake. “I talked to my friend today, and he told me he changed his number some weeks ago. So… he couldn’t have sent the messages.” He knows. There’s no way out of that situation. Lu Han has to confess.

“Yes, I did. I were. Sorry. I texted you today,” he makes a pause, so to rehearse what he’s about to say. “I’m a Chinese student who has just come to Korea. This is a phone I rented last Friday.” The rehearsed part is over, but he feels like there’s so much to tell him. So much he wants to say… “The messages weren’t for me, but I was really happy. I have no friends here,” he doesn’t know what is making him confessing this, but whoa, saying it out loud makes him feel really lonely. “I have no one to talk to. I live alone. So… so hearing your audio messages was nice. It made me feel better. They made. Sorry.”

Talk about oversharing. Lu Han is quietly thumping his forehead against his own balled fist, chastising himself for being so silly.

That’s probably it. Minseok will probably ask him not to call anymore, or just say goodbye, and Lu Han will never receive another one of those voice mails. He’ll never get any text messages either, and all of this really makes him unreasonably sad.

“Uh, Lu Han sshi… it’s Lu Han sshi, right?” Minseok speaks out.

“Yeah…” Lu Han answers quietly. His miserableness is probably seeping through the phone’s speakers.

“Um, so, Lu Han sshi… don’t worry! I’m not upset at you,” a small chuckle. Lu Han raises his eyes so quick that it seems maniac. “So you live by yourself… when did you come to Korea?”

“Last week,” Lu Han confesses. He doesn’t know whether the truth is the better answer but he can’t think of a better one. “I study at Yonsei. I have a scholarship.”

“Wow… Yonsei, huh,” Minseok sounds impressed. “Mm. I study at a technical school. I look so uncool next to you.”

“Not at all!” Lu Han dismisses, more comfortable now that it doesn’t seem like Minseok will hang up on him after yelling curses at him and his family. “Technical school is good.”

“Hm,” his little hums are starting to drive Lu Han up the wall, because they’re so _cute_. “Ah, well, Lu Han sshi… I actually have to hang up right now, my friends are waiting for me. Ah, but!” He adds, as if he had seen Lu Han’s face fall. “I’d really like to talk to you some other time. It’s okay if I keep this number, right?”

Lu Han swells. “Yes!” He practically screams. “Thank you. I, um. I’ll text you then?”

Minseok laughs. Lu Han is incredibly happy. “And I’ll send you a voice mail,” Minseok’s tone is jesting. “Talk to you later then! Bye bye!”

“Bye! Talk to you later!” Lu Han mimics, and Minseok hangs up.

Of course, it’s still too early for Lu Han to know that he’ll spend a month exchanging silly texts and late night phone calls with Minseok, his crush on him only growing. It’s still too early for him to know that, eventually, he’ll meet Minseok in the flesh, as well as Sehun and Tao and Chanyeol, and they’ll hang out and become close friends. It’s too early for him to know that he and Minseok will be best friends, that he’ll tell himself that his crush has wilted, only to find himself staring at Minseok’s lips with starry eyes; that, on Christmas, he’ll end up confessing, blurting out that he still has all of Minseok’s voice mails, probably tying it up with something cheesy about falling in love at first listen. And it’s way, way too early for him to know that Minseok will laugh, laugh and blush and hide his face and beg him to stop because that’s too much.

For now, Lu Han knows nothing. All he knows is Minseok’s voice – his pure, adorable, crystalline voice that lulls him to sleep as he replays each message again, and again, and again, and again…


End file.
